Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Chapter 59

The stench of massacre hung heavy in the air when Edis stepped foot in the Celestial Realm for the first time in centuries.

The pride he held within himself since the Apocalypse, the belief that violence could no longer shake him took but a few moments to shatter as he made his way through the avenue leading to Rhilio's palace.

The Celestial Armies-- legions of immortal beings gifted with the power of destruction who once marched under Xenro's command, raged all around him, charging at the mortal souls that had apparently infiltrated the realm again. Screams of agony pierced the sweltering air, cobbles at his feet shining with blood. Distorted portals were opening up on all sides, more of the souls appearing, only to meet their demise in the cruel swords of the protectors of this realm.

A new commander now led the warriors. It hadn't taken Rhilio long to replace Xenro after he cast him out.

Hands clasped so tight that his nails dug into his palm, teeth clenched, he could do naught but watch, the gruesome scene reflected in his silver eyes. The Celestial Realm, the city where lived the Gods and Goddesses, where the souls of the departed found peace after transcending to immortality, where stood the grand palace of the King of the Gods, was in ruins.

The Celestial Armies were simply performing their duty, he told himself. Mortal souls did not belong in the Celestial Realm, and riven with their unfulfilled wishes, they would soon begin to corrupt the inhabitants. This massacre was a necessary sacrifice, he tried to convince himself.

He was failing miserably.

These souls, dying by the score, had all been living, breathing people, going by their days in the Mortal Realm, and had done no wrong. No, they did not wish to disrupt the harmony between the realms, nor had they willingly stepped into the Celestial Realm.

Yet, the cause of their misery was ever so simple.

Necromancy, and its unholy union with Ancient Sorcery.

Magic came with a price, as did all great powers. And these people paid for it, so that away in the Mortal Realm, a necromancer could raise their foul army.

An eye for an eye.

To bring one back from the dead, sacrifice another. A soul for a soul, simple as that.

He snapped out the daze as a small hand grasped his boot. Edis looked down in horror to see a toddler staring up at him wordlessly, cheeks tear-stained, knees bleeding and bruised. She seemed to have crawled away from the fight. With little fingers, she tugged at the end of his cape.

What sort of monster had sacrificed a child? The details mattered not. All that was in the past. The thing before him now was a child no longer, rather...

A corrupt creature that does not belong. One that would spread its corruption into my soul.

He looked into her dead eyes, caught a glimpse of the fulfilling life she could have had, bright days she could have lived to see-- had she not ended up as an object of sacrifice for some vile necromancer.

All his fault.

What had he ever accomplished, except mindless destruction? Thousands got lost in the snowstorms he raised, never finding their way back home. Acres of crops ruined in sleet he caused.

Where the toddler's hand grasped his cape, darkness began to seep in like spilled ink. The child's eyes were pitch black.

All my fault.

"Watch out, Lord!" shouted one of the soldiers. "Even its touch can poison your mind!"

The next moment, in swung the huge blade of a battle-axe, tearing her in two. Fresh blood splattered across his face. The body disintegrated into thin air at once, for it was only a soul-- but the image remained seared into his mind.